Page 47 of Trials of Dusk and Dreams
“You snuck up on me,” I state gruffly.
“Sir?” His sour fear hits my nose.
“Someone with your skills is more useful trained as a Phantom for when the Interlude is over.” For when the war renews.
“Me?”
“That’s what I said.” Perhaps I was wrong in my assessment if I must constantly repeat myself. At his blanched complexion and Willow’s echo of surprise, a nervous roll in my gut makes me second-guess myself. So I add, “Unless you . . . actually want to compete in the trials?”
“No!”
My brows raise.
“I mean, no, sir, I don’t want to participate in the trials. I’d very much rather learn to be a Phantom. I’m only here because . . .” He looks nervously at Willow. For guidance, I realize. She seems to soothe the fractious fear so often witnessed in mortals around me.
“Speak freely,” I say.
“It’s just that, sir, us Nevers don’t often get promoted to anything beyond recruit. That’s what they tell me, anyway. And the thought of working on a farm or indentured servitude doesn’t appeal to me?—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Willow holds her hand up. “What do you mean indentured servitude?”
His eyes widen. He looks at me, so I put him out of his misery and remind Willow, “Nevers—like Cricket and Finch—must contribute to the good of our nation by either serving the Folk directly or working a farm and supplying a tithe of produce and resources.”
Her jaw drops. “I didn’t know that.” She closes her lips. “I mean, Max mentioned something about a farm. And Cricket did say she . . .”
The troubled look in her eyes concerns me. “Willow?”
“It’s just that I’d made assumptions based on brief conversations. I thought all the mortals were in Nocturna or at the Nexus.”
“Oh no,” Colin offers eagerly. “There are thousands of us up here, too. In fact, I think mortals outnumber the Folk. Right?”
He looks to me for confirmation, but I am still stuck on Willow’s troubled face and ask, “Did you not know?”
“I did not.”
Chapter 20
Bodin
In the following silence, I consider plucking the youth’s eyes out after all. His words put that sadness in Willow’s eyes, killing the light.
“So, can I be a Phantom without being able to use charms?” he asks, oblivious to my mood.
Indeed, the Radiants usually promote those who can use magic, but this year is different. The Knights of the Queen’s Hive rarely have time to worry about recruits or where they’re from. We’re too busy to deal with low-level matters.
“A Phantom is what I say it is,” I growl. “Only the queen’s knights deal with military matters.”
“What about Lord Ignarius?”
“I will deal with him. You will move into the Shadow Tower.”
“How will I?—”
I rip the House of Shadow emblem from my shirt pocket, eager to finish this conversation. “Take this. When you leave this establishment and find it in your possession, you’ll know to find me at the House of Shadow Tower.”
It is well-known that if one finds a mysterious stone the morning after visiting this establishment, they should take it to the House Radiant.
“Yes, sir.” He nods vehemently but pauses expectantly. Waiting for something?
